In and out of Catholicism : a personal sketch

h anil Out of Catholicism

MARY FRANOBS BCRGER

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tihv<^xy of Che trheolo^ical ^eminarjp

PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY
PRESENTED BY

Rufus K, LeFevre

MARY FRANCES BERGER

APR 21

In and Out of
Catholicism

A Personal Sketch

by ^
MARY FRANCES BERGER

Dayton, Ohio
1913

United Brethren Publishing House

The Otterbein Press

Dayton, Ohio

A Husband's Tribute

/T gives me great pleasure that after so many
years my dear wife has at last consented to
let the story of her early life take printed form.
Very many times has she hee^i solicited to do so
by those who have heard her narrate the events
which so radically changed the whole current of
her life, hut until now she has refrained.

A nd now as the sixtieth anniversary of our
marriage is just passing I have the sincerest joy
in referring to her unswerving fidelity to her con-
victions in espousing the Protestant faith, as
well as also to her loving loyalty and devotion
as a wife through all the varied experiences of
the long life zvhich our Heavenly Father has
graciously permitted us to live. D.B.

Author's Preface

MANY times I have been requested by
friends to write some account of those
early experiences which wrought so great a
change in my life destiny.

Long I have hesitated to do so, but at
last have consented to yield to their solicita-
tions, and place in this form some of the more
salient points. Whatever of interest may in-
here in what I have written may be aug-
mented to the reader by the fact that the
story is in no sense colored for the sake of ef-
fect, but is a simple narrative of things which
actually occurred.

TO MY DEAR HUSBAND,

WHOSE LOVE AND TENDER CARE HAVE

SUSTAINED ME THROUGH THE

MANY PASSING YEARS,

AND TO THE MANY CHERISHED FRIENDS

WHO HAVE DESIRED ME

TO RECORD IN THIS FORM SOME

OF THE INCIDENTS OF

MY EARLY LIFE,

THESE PAGES ARE AFFECTIONATELY

DEDICATED.

CONTENTS

I. Childhood Days — Convent Life . . 9

II. The Voyage 13

III. Yellow Fever 23

IV. Coming to Cincinnati 27

V. In a Protestant Church 33

VI. A New Experience 39

VII. The Morning Dawn 47

VIII. My Brother's Coming 51

IX. Toil and Precious Fruits 59

X. Incidents 65

XI. Closing Words 75

Childhood Days

THE incidents narrated in the following
pages mostly lie so far back in time
that many of them begin to seem al-
most like a half -forgotten dream. Yet so
deep were the impressions made by many
of the experiences undergone that each par-
ticular stands out with a vividness as but of
yesterday. And the reader may here be told
that the story as related is in no sense a cre-
ation of fancy, but a simple narrative of life
events and experiences.

The home of my birth was in the city of
Manchester, England, and in that city the
first sixteen years of my life were spent. My
father's name was Edwin Merry. My moth-
er's family name was Saulsbury. My father
was engaged in mercantile pursuits, and was
a gentleman of ample fortune. My maternal

10 hi and Out of Catholicism

grandfather was a large landholder, his es-
tates lying along the seashore, near the city
of Liverpool. All of my people were devout
members of the Roman Catholic Church, and
in that church I was carefully reared. Our
own immediate family consisted of my par-
ents and three children, a brother and sister
and myself. My brother was educated for
the priesthood, and entered in due time upon
that sacred office. My sister was educated
for a nun. I, the youngest of the family, was
intended for the same separated Hfe, the in-
tention, in the providence of God, not being
fulfilled.

My early home life was as delightful as
that of any child could be. Our home was a
luxurious mansion, with every appointment
of comfort that ample wealth could procure.
To the easy comforts of home my parents
added the pleasure of travel. Visits were
made to Scotland, where we had relatives re-
siding, and I retain most vivid recollections

Childhood Days 11

of scenes in the highlands where a portion
of our time was spent. My parents also
made visits to the continent, including Italy
and Rome. Twice I was taken to that city, once
by my parents, and once by my grandparents.
I was then too young to understand very
clearly much of what I saw, but I remember
distinctly the impressions made on my mind
when I saw St. Peter's, and others of the
great churches of that city. A portion of my
vacations usually was spent at my grand-
father's, and many of my child experiences
there are remembered with the clearest dis-
tinctness.

My school life was passed in the convent
connected with the cathedral, and was without
any special incident, except such as is com-
mon to children in convent schools. During
the earlier years I was in the school as a day
scholar. Arrived at the proper age, I became
an inmate of the convent, and from that time
had permission to visit my home, only a few

12 In and Out of Catholicism

squares distant, once every two weeks. The
government in the convent was rigid,' and ab-
solute obedience to the requirements of the
nuns, who were our teachers, was enforced
in every particular. The nunnery was ad-
jacent to the cathedral, the bishop's church.
This church my parents attended, and here
I was baptized and confirmed, attended the
confessional, and learned to worship God af-
ter the forms of the Roman Catholic Church.

The Voyage

AFTER these brief notes relating to
my early days, I pass at once to
speak of an event and of exper-
iences that changed my entire subsequent
life. My father's brother, Mr. John
Merry, a bachelor somewhat advanced in
years, had made an investment in an exten-
sive plantation in Louisiana, and had made
several trips across the ocean to visit it, re-
turning again to England. On his last return
he v^^as married, and, having arranged to bring
his young wife with him to America on a
bridal trip, he persuaded my parents to let
me come with them for company for her.
Permission for a four months' vacation ac-
cordingly was obtained from the convent, and
preparations were made for the voyage.

13

14 In and Out of Catholicism

At that time, now more than sixty years
ago, there were but few steamers on the high
seas, and ocean travel continued mostly in the
old-fashioned sail vessels. My uncle engaged
passage on a ship called the Astrachan, a
stoutly-built merchantman with accommoda-
tions for a limited number of passengers, and
on the 29th of December, 1848, we set sail.

And now was soon to follow an experience
of disaster, of protracted storm, of utter ship-
wreck, of helpless floating on trackless wa-
ters, of starvation and death, prolonged
through month after month, such as seldom
has befallen travelers on the watery waste. So
absolutely distressing were the experiences of
the voyage that no tongue or pen may ade-
quately portray them.

The trip from Liverpool to New Orleans
was expected to be accomplished in four
weeks. Instead of this we were on the sea
until three days after Easter, a period of fif-
teen weeks and three days. We were but a

The Voyage 15

few days out from Liverpool when the storm
struck us, continuing for many days, and with
such terrific severity that our vessel became
an utter prey to its fury. Our two suits of
sail were rent until only fragments remained;
the mainmast was broken beyond repair; the
cabin, a thing of frailty before such terrific
power, was shattered and swept away ; a leak
was sprung in the hold which no means at
command could fully repair, so that trunks
and boxes floated about in the rapidly filling
water.

The cabin being gone, all the passengers
were now confined below, the hatch being
firmly closed to prevent any persons except
the seamen appearing on deck. With the con-
tinued stress of the storm, and with knowl-
edge of the helpless condition of the ship, the
consternation of the passengers became inde-
scribable. Most of the time they were in abso-
lute darkness, keeping the lights burning be-
coming impossible. They could but hear the

16 In and Out of Catholicism

incessant roaring of the storm above, the sul-
len sound of water pressing into the hold, and
the heavy beating of the waves against the
ship. Mingled with these sounds were the
cries of the fearstricken passengers in the
gloomy prison of the ship.

One time especially I most distinctly re-
member, when the captain, brave officer that
he was, had given up all hope that the ship
could be saved. Coming to the hatchway he
announced his belief that all was lost, and
called upon the passengers who believed in
God, or who could pray, to appeal to the Al-
mighty for help. The agonizing scene which
followed no language can describe. In the al-
most rayless darkness parents called to their
children, children to their parents, and friends
to their friends: "Oh, where are you? Come
here and let us die together." Whether or
not the fervent prayers of that hour brought
answer from him who is Lord of the seas,
and who with his word stilled the waves on

The Voyage 17

Galilee, the fur}^ of the winds soon after-
ward began to abate, and comparative quiet
followed the fearful storm.

But even now, when at last the great power
of the storm was spent, none on board could
anticipate the more dire calamities which yet
awaited our unfortunate company of sea-
farers. The provisioning of the ship had been
made for eight weeks, twice the time of ordi-
nary expectancy for completing the voyage. As
the weeks grew into months, and the months
were prolonged, the supplies gradually grew
less ; and as week followed after week all the
horrors of gaunt starvation were to be ex-
perienced. The helpless hulk of our once no-
ble vessel had drifted out of the usual routes
of ocean travel, and while for weeks our fore-
mast carried a flag of distress only a single
vessel, a man-of-war, came in sight, and that
also had hoisted the same ominous sign. A
boat was lowered and several of our sailors
rowed across to the vessel, but brought back

18 In and Out of Catholicism

no supplies except a small quantity of tobacco
which many of the men on our vessel received
with great avidity. The ocean so long ago
was not covered with ships as it is at the
present time, and once out of the lines of or-
dinary travel a vessel might indeed be lost
for a long period without seeing a single sail.

Our supplies of food and water gradually
reached the point of almost absolute exhaus-
tion, so that only the half of a sea biscuit
was given to a passenger as a daily ration.
Under the strain of this terrible famine, thir-
ty-two of our people died, including passen-
gers and seamen, while most of tl.ose >vho
finally reached our goal were reduced to the
merest skeletons. Meanwhile, constant exer-
tion had to be made to keep the ship from
sinking. The pumps were kept going day and
night, passengers and crew taking turns, and
some of the men dropped dead at the work.

How our vessel finally entered the Gulf of
Mexico, and how it proceeded westward so as

The Voyage 19

to reach the mouths of the Mississippi, I am
not now, from my youth and inexperience at
that time, able to recount. But I remember
some most pathetic scenes that were enacted
on board, when one morning we gained the
first sight of land. The morning was quiet
and beautiful ; the sun had just arisen, when
land in view was announced. The passengers
who were able to leave their couches hastened-
to come on deck. Others, too weak to walk,
were assisted to come up to share the delight
of the welcome vision. All hailed with inex-
pressible joy the glory of the sight, intensified
by the rich April foliage of a southern land-
scape. Faces haggard and consumed with
hunger, eyes fallen deep into their shrunken
sockets, were illumined with an expression of
gladness such as previous despair had deemed
never again possible. And there were excla-
mations of thanksgiving to God that at last
hope had come again, for now we would be
able soon to escape from the charnel house

20 In and Out of Catholicism

which had so long confined us and walk once
more upon the solid earth.

On our approach to the Mississippi, we were
met by the pilot boat, and from its stores of
rice and water we received our first supply of
food. With the greatest eagerness the small
amount parcelled out to us was eaten, while
the earnest begging for more was rigidly de-
nied; for there was at once a new source of
danger, lest from even a small excess in eating
death might result. Our passage from the lower
waters of the river to the city was without
incident, but the green grasses, the foliage of
the trees, and especially the golden fruit on
the orange trees, were most delightful to our
eyes after months of ocean travel.

Our arrival at New Orleans was to bring us
another disappointment. The passengers had
anticipated immediate debarkation, and con-
soled themselves with thoughts of the abun-
dant food which they soon would obtain. This
hope was to be chilled rudely by the coming of

The Voyage 21

the medical officers on board, who ordered a
detention on the river for fourteen days, until
all on board could be so far dieted as to make
landing safe. And so we were transferred to
another vessel and anchored in the middle of
the river.

Yellow Fever

OUR landing at New Orleans was to
bring us at once face to face with
another peril no less dreadful than
that of shipwreck and starvation on the
sea. It was now the beginning of May,
and that fearful scourge, the yellow fever,
which has so often in the past visited our
southern cities, was prevailing in its direst
form. The people of our vessel who were
left, emaciated and reduced by the famine,
were in ill condition to resist the power of
this new foe, and many of them soon fell vic-
tims to its ravages.

My uncle and aunt and myself were among
those who survived the dangers of the sea, and
we were hoping, after some days of rest and
recuperation, to leave the city and proceed in-
land to my uncle's plantation. We stopped at

24 In and Out of Catholicism

the St. Charles Hotel, that well-known hos-
telry of the past, reduced to ashes some years
ago, and succeeded now by a splendid new edi-
fice. For some days, as strength was begin-
ning to return, we experienced a joy and hope-
fulness such as we had not known through the
gloomy months of helpless drifting on the sea.
But alas, our hope was destined to bitter dis-
appointment. Within a few weeks we were
smitten with the dreadful scourge, and little
power remained to battle with the disease. The
angel of death struck us each with his wing ; I
alone survived. My aunt was the first to yield,
and her body was hastened away to the ceme-'
tery. Not many days later, my uncle followed.
We two were not yet stricken when my aunt
died and we attended her body to the burial.
I was taken next, and then my uncle, and in a
few days he died. On account of my weak-
ened condition, all knowledge of his death was
carefully withheld from me for many days.
The nurses were sisters of charity, and they

Yellow Fever 25

cared for me throughout my illness with the
utmost tenderness. Father Woods, the pastor
of one of the Catholic churches, visited me
frequently as confessor.

During the days of my wearisome waiting,
I often begged to see my uncle, but the nurses
told me he was too weak to see me, or to per-
mit my being carried to his room to see him.
When at last, after about three weeks, I was
thought to be strong enough to bear the infor-
mation, Father Woods, with the doctor, and
the proprietor of the hotel and his wife, came
into my room to impart to me the dreadful
truth. On seeing the anxious expression on
their faces, I quickly discerned the nature of
their errand. But oh, the intense agony of
that moment when the direful truth was con-
veyed to me it were indeed vain to attempt
to portray. An indescribable sense of loss and
of utter loneliness came upon me. I was sep-
arated by thousands of miles from my parents
and friends at home. Not a soul was near me

26 In and Out of Catholicism

whom I had ever before known. Strangers
were they all, hotel people, physician, nurses,
women in the hotel. All were kind, and all
seemed anxious to comfort and care for me.
But the faces of the dear ones with whom I
had come over the sea I should never see
again, and the loved ones at home were so
far away.

The proprietor of the hotel was a Mr.
Deane, earlier of Cincinnati. Mrs. Deane also
was of Cincinnati, and, as I afterward learned,
was closely related to Mr. Mitchell, of the
widely known firm of Mitchell and Rammels-
berg, in that city. Mr. and Mrs. Deane be-
came as guardian angels to me. My uncle,
before dying, had committed me to their
charge, and to them I was very greatly in-
debted. Of them I shall have more to say
presently.

Coming to Cincinnati

WITH the continued prevalence of
the yellow fever, business in New
Orleans was almost completely at a
standstill, and people in great numbers
were leaving the city, seeking escape from
the dread destroyer. The hotels shared the
general prostration, the St. Charles in common
with the rest. Mr. Deane decided to join the
exodus, and with Mrs. Deane, to come north
for a time to Cincinnati, that city having been
their early home, and, in accordance with his
promise to my uncle to look after my welfare,
they brought me with them. Quarantine reg-
ulations to prevent exit, if any existed, were
loosely appHed, and there was no hindrance to
any persons leaving the city who were able to
do so. The small amount of business that re-
mained for the hotel was given into the care
of the proprietor's son and trustworthy clerks,
passage on a steamer was engaged, and the

27

28 In and Out of Catholicism

journey from the plague-smitten city was be-
gun. Among the painful thoughts that now
oppressed my mind was this, that I was leav-
ing my beloved uncle and aunt to lie in un-
known graves.

The summer was now well advanced, and
verdure was everywhere in its fullest luxuri-
ance and beauty. The scenery along the broad
waters of the Mississippi, and later along the
hills skirting the Ohio, was all new and strange
to me, and yet often gave my young heart the
keenest delight. There was an immeasurable
contrast between this journey and the helpless
beating to and fro on the wide wastes of the
Atlantic. Even the weary days of battling for
life in the sick chamber of the St. Charles,
and the bitter bereavement of the loved ones
who were lost in that struggle, were sometimes
almost forgotten in the inspiration of these
changed circumstances, so quickly does buoy-
ant young life respond to helpful and uplift-
ing conditions.

Coming to Cincinnati 29

Arrived at Cincinnati, we went to the Den-
nison House, at that time among the foremost
hotels in the city. And here presently was to
begin an acquaintance which had much to do
in determining all the future of my life. In
the lists of arrivals as published in the daily
papers were the names of Mr. and Mrs. Deane,
and soon old acquaintances and friends of
theirs began to call on them. Among these was
a Mrs. Grayson, formerly of the city of Man-
chester. Accompanying her was her daughter,
a young girl of about my own age. Having
been introduced, we two presently stepped to
the verandah, Mrs. Deane and Mrs. Grayson
remaining in the parlor. In their conversa-
tion Mrs. Deane mentioned to Mrs. Grayson
that I had come in the care of Mr. Deane and
herself from New Orleans, that I was from the
city of Manchester, and related to her a part
of the tragic story of our shipwreck, the death
of my uncle and aunt, and that I had come on
to Cincinnati to await information from an

30 In and Out of Catholicism

uncle with whom I expected to return to Eng-
land at an- early day.

Mrs. Grayson listened to the story with deep
interest, especially on learning that I was from
her own native city. Calling me in, she in-
terrogated me in regard to streets and places
in Manchester, and I soon learned that she was
familiar with many of the names and places
that were familiar to me. I found that even her
father's place of business was well known to
me. Her father was a manufacturer of fine
candies, and his place, being located on the
way between our home and the convent, my
mother often stopped there to order sweet-
meats when accompanying my sister and my-
self to or from the convent school.

Mrs. Grayson then, with her heart warmed
toward a lone young girl so far away from her
home, remarked that she would be pleased to
have me become her guest, and be company
for her daughter while I was waiting to hear
from the uncle with whom I was to return to

Coming to Cincinnati 31

England. Mr. and Mrs. Deane assented to
the kind proposition and I was pleased to ac-
cept, little thinking that the Lord was leading
me in a way that I knew not, and that so soon
a new direction was to be ordered for all my
subsequent life. The next morning this good
lady's carriage called at the hotel to take me,
with my baggage, to her hospitable home.

It is now time that I should relate what
plans had been made for my return to Eng-
land when my visit to America should be com-
pleted. A priest uncle, a brother of my
mother, had been commissioned to come to
America with messages from the pope to the
bishop of Albany, New York, and to some of
the bishops of the church in Canada. My uncle
and aunt whom I accompanied to America had
planned to spend a year in this country before
returning home, but they were to take me to
Albany within the time provided for my ab-
sence from the convent school, and from there
my priest uncle was to take me home to Eng-

32 In and Out of Catholicism

land. But the long delay of our vessel on the
ocean, and the waiting for months without a
message of any kind, led at last to the helief
that all w^ere lost, and that we should never be
heard of again. A letter from the bishop of
Albany, in reply to one from Mr. Deane, stated
that my uncle had waited at Albany for nearly
three weeks, when, entertaining no longer any
hope, and with duties at home urging his re-
turn, he had reluctantly taken his departure.

To the letters of my uncle, written from
New Orleans upon our arrival there, and that
of Mr. Deane after the death of my uncle and
aunt, no replies had been received before our
leaving that city. Mail communication, espe-
cially across the ocean, was slow at that period.
No ocean cable flashed messages across the
water, and telegraphy was as an art just en-
tering its early stages. To my own correspond-
ence there must needs be some weeks of wait-
ing before an answer from home could be re-
ceived.

In a Protestant Church

INF ACCORDANCE with my careful training
I soon found my way to the morning serv-
ice at the cathedral, where Bishop Pur-
cell, later archbishop, was the chief pastor.
I also soon made the acquaintance of the
bishop, and he learned from me the story of
my coming to America and of my sad exper-
ience in New Orleans. He received me with
a tender and sympathetic interest, and
treated me with kindly consideration. For
weeks I was regularly present each morning at
the cathedral service, the daughter of my gen-
erous friend accompanying me, usually with
the family carriage.

Finally, one day, Miss Grayson invited me
to go with her and her mother to their church.
This I learned was called the Presbyterian.
The name, however, did not signify much to

33

34 In and Out of Catholicism

me, as I had no distinct recognition of any
difference in denominations. To me there was
only one church, the Roman Catholic, while all
others were simply Protestant.

To this invitation of Miss Grayson, I made
reply, "Oh, I cannot." "Why not?" she nat-
urally asked, and I again replied, but with
added emphasis, "Oh, I cannot."

"Why," she rejoined, "I have been going
with you to your church, and now why can
you not go with me to mine?"

To this I replied, "It would be a sin, and I
should have to confess it to the priest."

"Why, that is strange," she continued; "I
do not feel it to be a sin to go to your church,
and I do not have to confess it to anyone."

On retiring to my room I began to reflect on
our conversation, and I could but feel that it
was very ungracious and indeed quite unpar-
donable to refuse the request when I had been
receiving so great kindness from this dear
mother and daughter. On further thought, I

In a Protestant Church 35

decided that I would go, and afterward make
confession of my sin, for a sin it then appeared
to me to be, and do such penance as my priest
would require.

Accordingly, having attended the cathedral
service in the morning, I made preparation to
go in the evening, for the first time in my life,
to a Protestant house of worship. A part of
this preparation consisted in putting away my
cross and rosary, fearing they would be defiled
if taken into a Protestant church. As we
walked toward the church, I was almost over-
come with trepidation and fear, and when we
arrived at the door I said to Mrs. Grayson,
"Oh, I cannot go in, I cannot go in." "Why,
my dear," Mrs. Grayson replied, "we cannot
do otherwise now. The hour for service is
here ; we cannot take you back home, and you
could not find the way."

A few minutes later I was seated with Mrs.
Grayson and her daughter in their pew in the
church. But can my readers imagine how I

36 In and Out of Catholicism

was shocked when I looked around upon the
bare walls of the large room, with not a pic-
ture or image of a saint, or scene in the life of
Christ for the eye to rest upon, to relieve the
coldness or assist in quickening the feeling of
devotion. And then I was still more shocked
at not seeing an altar, or any candles, or any
other rich furnishings, such as I always had
been accustomed to see. There was simply a
pulpit, very unimpressive except in its lack of
anything beautiful, and an aged man in plain
black clothing with no rich clerical vestments,
sitting back of it against the wall. To me the
scene was all forbidding barrenness, and I
wondered how the people could feel that it was
a place of worship. The singing, in which the
congregation joined, seemed pleasant enough,
but in the long prayer there were no responses.
Then followed a sermon, to me tedious and
wearisome, and I was glad when at last all was
over. I left the place wondering how people
could be pleased with a service in which they

In a Protestant Church 37

had so little part, and which seemed to me so
cold and barren.

During my stay in the church, my thoughts
reverted again and again to my home across
the sea. What would my father and mother
think if they could know that I was at this
hour seated within the walls of a Protestant
church! The thought became intensely pain-
ful to me, so that I could not restrain my tears,
my weeping attracting the attention of those
around me. I realized, too, that to Mrs. Gray-
son it was a source of embarrassment, and I
most bitterly wished that in some way I might
die, and be relieved of a situation so painfully
distressing, and from the sin which I believed
I was committing.

I must here absolve Mrs. Grayson and her
daughter from any imputation of hidden pur-
pose on their part. I do not think that they had
the most distant thought of turning me away
from the form of religious faith and worship
in which I had been brought up. It was their

38 In and Out of Catholicism

single wish to make my stay with them as
pleasant as possible until my father, or some
one sent by him, should come and take me
home.

A New Experience

IN THE ordering of divine providence, my
steps were soon to lead me to an exper-
ience that I had not anticipated, and
which, if one had foretold it, I should have
declared utterly impossible. On our way re-
turning from the Presbyterian Church, we were
to pass in the near vicinity of a Methodist
Episcopal Church, the once well-known Morris
Chapel, succeeded later by the more elegant
St. Paul's. Mrs. Grayson had a brother who
was a member of this church, and she proposed
that we should pass that way and her brother
would accompany us home.

As we approached the church, we were
greeted by the sound of singing, in which the
whole congregation seemed to be engaged. As
I learned afterward, services called revival
meetings were in progress. Mrs. Gray-
son went inside to speak to her brother, while

39

40 In and Out of Catholicism

her daughter and I lingered in the vestibule.
The people were singing with so much fervor
that it seemed really beautiful, and I presently
desired to go in. I reasoned, too, in this way :
that, as I had already committed an offense for
which I must give account to my confessor, I
might as well add this and receive forgiveness
for both. Entering the door, an usher gave us
a seat well toward the middle of the church.
From here I noticed that, while a large
group was standing near the pulpit engaged
in singing, others were kneeling and appar-
ently engaged in earnest prayer. This was all
so new and strange to me, and I asked Miss
Grayson why they were praying in that way.
Quietly she explained that they were pray-
ing to have their sins forgiven. It was difficult
for me to comprehend the thought of sins
being forgiven in that manner, the only for-
giveness I had known being that which came
from the priest in the confessional. But my
interest was aroused to an intense degree, and

A New Experience 41

I took the closest note of what I saw and
heard, amid the new surroundings.

Soon, however, I was to experience an
alarm which caused the eyes of all to turn to-
ward me. In one of the corners of the church
nearest the pulpit, on the side occupied by the
women after the earlier manner of dividing
the men from the women, sat an elderly wo-
man, who, under the impulse of intense reli-
gious feeling, began to clap her hands. Pres-
ently she arose and began jumping up and
down after the manner then frequently seen,
as I afterward learned, in some of the Metho-
dist churches. I at once thought that she was
insane, and as she moved forward, and then in
the direction toward where I was sitting, I
was seized with the thought that she was com-
ing to where we were. Filled with the utmost
terror, and screaming aloud, I jumped up and
ran precipitately toward the door. In a mo-
ment Mrs. Grayson and others were at my
side assuring me that no possible harm could

42 In and Out of Catholicism

befall me, but I could not be persuaded to re-
turn again to my seat.

Among those who came to me to reassure
me were a Mr. Moran and his wife. Mr. Mo-
ran, who I later learned had been educated for
the Catholic priesthood, spoke a few kindly
words to me, and Mrs. Moran put her arms
around me, saying: "Oh, my dear child, I
know what is the matter with you. But God
will take care of you, and everything will soon
be right."

I did not at all comprehend the meaning of
her words, but thought she was taking undue
liberty in putting her arms about me. When I
came to understand later, I knew she thought
I was under conviction for sin. I was indeed
under conviction for sin, but not in the sense
that she supposed. My only conviction was
that of sinning in going into a Protestant
church, and my fear of meeting my confessor
to give an account of what I had done. Yet I
was deeply impressed with the seeming ear-

A New Experience 43

nestness and sincerity of the people, and with
the direct address of their prayers to God in
the name of Christ for salvation, without the
intervention of apostles or saints, and this, I
doubt not, had much to do with bringing about
what afterward followed.

We did not linger long after this at the
church. Arriving at home, I soon retired to
my room, but not to quiet rest. My mind was
wrought up to an intense degree, and for a
long time I lay awake thinking on the expe-
riences of the evening, on the reckoning I
would have to make with my confessor, and of
my parents in a distant land who would be hor-
rified and angry with me for what I had done.

Sleep at last came to my eyes, but it was a
troubled sleep. The tumult of my thoughts
could not be readily stayed, but I did not know
that through this very tumult God was sup-
plying one of the means by which I was soon to
be directed into such knowledge of himself as
I had not before known.

44 In and Out of Catholicism

I have not throughout my life paid much re-
gard to dreams. Yet I believe that God may,
and sometimes does, employ even such an
agency to send conviction, or a new inspira-
tion, to the hearts of men, and this in accord-
ance with numerous instances recorded in the
Holy Book. In my restless sleep a dream came
to me that made upon my consciousness a deep
impression and bore a significance which I af-
terward most forcibly realized.

I stood upon the low banks of a beautiful
stream, and presently I heard above me voices
in most delightful song. Soon the voices
seemed to move up the course of the stream,
and, charmed with the beautiful music, I at-
tempted to follow. Presently I found my feet
in the water, and soon the stream was deeper
and wider. Its beauty disappeared, steep
banks arose on either side, and fear began to
overcome me. I looked to the top of the bank
for help, and there saw Father Woods, my for-
mer confessor, and cried to him to assist me.

A New Experience 45

He met my appeal with coldness, uttered a few
words of reproach, and turned away. For a
few moments I was held in an agony of despair.
Then I looked again, and saw a most beautiful
vision. It was the divine form of the Savior.
I stretched out my hands toward him, and hfe
bade me, "Come hither, my child, to me." In
a moment I scaled with an almost gliding mo-
tion the steep declivity, and stood delighted
and saved in his presence.

I awoke in the morning calm and serene in
feeling, but with a most vivid impression of the
dream in my mind, yet not comprehending its
significance. But it seemed strange to me that
the priest who had earlier been so kind to me
should now with scorn turn from me, while
Jesus, whom before I had approached only
through intermediate persons, now heard me
face to face.

The Morning Dawn

AT ABOUT nine o'clock on Monday
morning Mr. and Mrs. Moran called
to see me. As they knew nothing of
my past, of my home in England, or my
coming to America, or how I came to be in
Cincinnati, they made friendly inquiry, sympa-
thized tenderly with me for the tragic and sor-
rowful experiences I had undergone on the
ocean and in New Orleans, and for my present
loneliness in waiting for a message from my
parents, and expressed the hope that someone
would soon arrive to take me home.

After conversing a while in this way, Mr.
Moran proposed to have prayer with me. I
was shocked at the thought of having a Prot-
estant pray for me, but, as his appearance was
so fatherly and his manner so kindly sympa-
thetic, I could not object. His prayer was ten-
der and beautiful, committing me with fervent

47

48 In and Out of Catholicism

pleading to the care of our Father in heaven
until I should find my home again with my
people in England. In tone it was so different
from any prayer I had ever heard as to make
a deep impression on my mind.

After the prayer, as he and Mrs. Moran
were about to depart, he invited me, with Miss
Grayson, to ride with them in their carriage.
The morning ride was refreshing to me after
the tense excitement of the evening and night.
But in our conversation no reference was
made, as there had not been before, to any pos-
sible change of religion, neither did I at this
time know that Mr. Moran was a convert from
the Roman Catholic Church.

On our return, the day was spent in quiet-
ness, as was also the day following. But my
mind was sorely distressed by the circumstan-
ces, with thoughts of how I should meet my
confessor, and of the results to follow in my
home in England when the facts should become
known. During these days I did not go to

The Morning Dawn 49

mass, as I had been accustomed each morning
to do. Wednesday afternoon, however, found
me again at the Methodist church to attend a
special revival service. Mr. and Mrs. Moran
calling for me, I went without reluctance.

And here began the real development of the
religious impulses which brought me into a
true spiritual experience. I was deeply bur-
dened wth a consciousness of sin, and after a
period of earnest prayer entered into a blessed
experience of acceptance with Christ as my
gracious and present Savior. In the spiritual
ecstacy with which my heart was filled, I felt
the deeper joy in the fact that I could come di-
rectly to Jesus Christ in a conscious and
blessed communion.

With this experience which was so joyfully
sustained, I felt that the die was cast. I knew
that I could no longer appear at the confes-
sional, or use the privileges of the Roman
Catholic Church, unless I would confess that
in all this I had committed grievous sin for

50 In and Out of Catholicism

which I must do ample penance; so not long
afterward, after much thought and prayer, I
decided to cast my lot with the Methodist
church. The immediate result was intense ex-
citement among many of the attendants at the
cathedral, with a number of whom I had
formed acquaintance, and friendship and sym-
pathetic feeling were quickly changed into bit-
terness.

M'

My Brother's Coming

EAN WHILE, as the days went by, I
continued to attend the services at
the Methodist church, becoming
steadily more confirmed in my newly-found
experience, and in the spiritual joy of a
direct communion with Christ as my Savior.
In this frame I waited for the expected com-
ing of my father, or someone whom he should
send to take me home to England. In an al-
most childlike innocency, I cherished the
thought that I could keep from my people the
knowledge of what I had done, and that I
would continue to worship in the way I had
now learned, while I might also worship in the
forms of the Catholic Church. In this I was
ere long to meet with a bitter disillusionment.
Some weeks had now passed by, when one
morning the door bell rang and I was called

51

52 In and Out of Catholicism

from my room to meet a man who was wishing
to see me. This was my brother.

Upon receiving my letters, written from
Cincinnati immediately after my arrival there,
my father at once dispatched a message to my
brother in Rome where he was a student for
the priesthood, summoning him home, to pre-
pare with all speed for a trip to America. I
soon found that he had been fully advised of
all that had transpired in Cincinnati. This was
in part through information sent to my par-
ents before his arrival in Manchester, and in
part, and more fully, on his arrival in Cin-
cinnati. In this city he called at the episcopal
residence before calling to see me.

His manner toward me was stern and cold.
He declared I had put a lasting disgrace upon
our family, and peremptorily ordered me to
prepare immediately to start for New York to
embark for England.

I saw that I stood at once face to face with
the greatest possible emergency. To return

My Brother's Coming 53

to England would mean the immediate renun-
ciation of the Protestant faith which I had es-
poused and which had become so dear to me.
It would mean also the most severe humiliation
the church could inflict, not improbably con-
finement in a convent for life. The moment
was one of supreme trial. I lifted my heart to
God for counsel as to the decision I should
make. Faith triumphed, and I declined to go.
My brother, becoming very angry and stamp-
ing his foot, declared, "I will see that you do
go." He went away to take legal counsel, and
by two law firms, one of them Roman Catholic,
was advised that there was no recourse for
him, that in free America all persons were at
liberty to worship God in such form as they
might elect, or not to worship at all if they
chose not to do so.

Finding me fully determined not to return
with him under the conditions imposed, my
brother left for England in another day or two.

54 In and Out of Catholicism

Intensely pained and sore at heart, I retired
to spend the rest of the day in fervent prayer
to my heavenly Father for strength to sustain
me in this time of extreme trial, and to lead
my way in the future. I sought to commit my-
self wholly to his care, and felt that in him
my heart found rest.

But now there was soon to come an experi-
ence of trial, the depth of whose bitterness I
n^ould not attempt to describe. The arrival of
my brother at home, and the report he brought
to my father, stirred him to extreme anger,
and a letter from him gave me the deepest
mental distress, and for a time I almost felt
that I must retrace my steps, and yield up
that which I now deemed so unspeakably pre-
cious. After much prayer, and a feeling that
I had the divine approval, and that God would
direct my way in whatever was to come, I
replied to him that, much as I loved him and
my mother, I could not cast away that which
I had found in God, and which was now so
dear to me.

My Brother's Coming 55

His final letter to me was indeed a crushing
one. After dwelling upon the disgrace, as he
termed it, which I had brought upon the family,
he protested that I should never say I had a
father in England, and that he would never
say he had a daughter in America; and de-
clared that I should never inherit of his estate
what would jingle on a tombstone, referring
to the tombstones laid flat on the ground in
England. • He then added, "I hope you will
never come near me," with other words that
I cannot here repeat. He then concluded with,
"Farewell forever."

To read this letter, and to think upon its
import, was a blow, the weight of which no
words can express. I felt that I was now in-
deed alone, exiled at first by circumstances and
now by this terrific decree of banishment, dis-
inherited of the very ample portion which in
course of time should fall to me, and that ere
long, when my purse should be further ex-
hausted, I must stand face to face with pov-

56 In and Out of Catholicism

erty. The prospect was so different from all
that in my life before I had known, that the
thought of it was most overwhelming. But I
did not yield my faith in God, and, in the be-
lief that he would sustain me, I felt that I could
meet martyrdom if that were necessary. And
I was not disappointed in my faith, for God
raised up many friends to stand by me ; and so
through all my life he has been pleased to sus-
tain me with friendships that have been more
precious to me than silver and gold.

During the days that followed, many per-
sons called to see me, and their words of kind-
ness proved of great comfort to me. Among
those who thus called was a Mr. Jones, one
of the attorneys whom my brother had con-
sulted. One day in conversation with his part-
ner he said he believed he would call and see
that young English girl who had shown such
remarkable firmness in standing for her relig-
ious convictions. His call proved very pleasant
and helpful to me. At his request I narrated
something of my early life, the circumstances

My Brother's Coming S7

of my coming to America, my experience on
the ocean, in New Orleans, and later in Cin-
cinnati ; of my espousal of the Protestant faith,
and the coming of my brother from Rome. Mr.
Jones was a believer, but not a professing
Christian; his wife was a Presbyterian. He
listened to the recital with much interest,
and with quivering lips remarked that if he
had ever been inclined to doubt the reality of a
religious experience he did not doubt it now.
When he arose to go I thanked him for the
interest he had taken in me in protecting me
from a compulsory return to the Catholic
faith. He stepped across to the other side of
the room and took from the mantelpiece a
small silken flag, and, holding it over my head,
said, "Ah, my dear child, it was not I who
saved you, it was this flag that protected you.
This protects every one in America in worship-
ing God in any form he may choose." I need
hardly say that the beautiful American flag has
ever since held for me a doubly precious mean-
ing.

Toil and Precious Fruits

AS TIIME was now passing, there were
many kindnesses shown me, and va-
rious people warmly pressed me to
come to their homes, and be in their fam-
ilies as their own daughter. I could not,
however, bring myself to accept an offer of
this kind, my proud spirit rising in rebellion
against any thought of being thus dependent.
But what I should do to earn my living was
not an easy problem to solve. In any practical
affairs of life I was absolutely without expe-
rience. In the luxurious home of my parents
there was nothing for me to do except what
has been referred to in the earlier pages of
this narrative. Even in the simplest matters
of dressing, my sister and I were constantly
served by a waiting maid.

After counsel with friends with regard to
what I might learn to do, I finally decided to

59

60 In and Out of Catholicism

learn the art of artificial flower making. The
business seemed inviting, required no large
outlay of strength, made a pleasant appeal to
taste, and pecuniarily was fairly profitable. In
this way I soon became able to provide for
myself with reasonable care as to expenditures.
Meanwhile I found a pleasant home with the
family of my class leader, a Mr. Thompson,
and upon their removal from the city, with Mr.
and Mrs. Hull, members of the same church,
Mr. Hull being my next class leader. My re-
lations with these people were most congenial.
It was some time in the fall of 1851 that Mr.
and Mrs. Hull removed to a part of the city
more distant from Morris Chapel and near to a
church of the United Brethren in Christ. Be-
ing late one Sunday morning in starting for
service, and passing near this latter church,
Mr. Hull proposed that we go in. They were
pleased with the service and with the minis-
ter, and we afterward came again, and a few
months later transferred our membership to

Toil and Precious Fruits 61

this church. The forms of service being es-
sentially the same as those of the Methodist
Episcopal church, we soon felt quite at home.
The pastor of this church was the Rev. W. J.
Shuey. He is still living, quite advanced in
age, and widely known as the Rev. Doctor
Shuey.

The transfer to this church had much to do
with shaping my later destiny in life. Upon
further acquaintance, Mr. and Mrs. Shuey de-
sired me to make my home with them, and on
Mr. and Mrs. Hull's acquiescence I did so. In
the summer of the year 1852, Mr. and. Mrs.
Shuey made a visit to Mrs. Shuey 's parents at
Springfield, Ohio, and Mrs. Shuey invited me
to accompany them. It was during this visit that
I met Mrs. Shuey's brother, Mr. Daniel Ber-
ger, who in the providence of God afterward
became my husband. I had at this time also
changed my place of employment to the large
book and publishing house of Messrs. Apple-
gate, Flickinger and Pounsford, where I re-

62 In and Out of Catholicism

mained up to the time of my marriage. Thus
through these several years I continued to toil
for my sustenance, a part of the prolonged sac-
rifice I made for Christ's sake. It is but truth
to say that at times the burdens seemed heavy,
but I never ceased to rejoice in the fact that
I possessed an open Bible, and its precious
promises greatly sustained me. While I had
sacrificed much, I ever felt that I possessed a
richer portion.

My marriage with Mr. Berger occurred on
July 28, 1853, just a little less than a year after
our first meeting, and proved a most auspi-
cious event. He was then a candidate for min-
isterial orders, since widely known through of-
ficial relationship with the United Brethren
Church as the Rev. Dr. Berber. God has been
pleased to prolong our life in happy compan-
ionship through more than sixty years, our
golden anniversary bein^ passed ten years ago,
and our sixtieth on the twenty-eighth of July
of the present year.

Toil and Precious Fruits 63

The first of these events was emphasized by
the voluntary calling of a large number of
friends in Dayton, Ohio, the city in which we
have lived for fifty years, and by numerous
letters and telegrams of congratulation from
abroad. The second, by virtue of necessity,
was observed in a more limited way. The
great flood which visited Dayton and included
our home in its ravages brought to us much
impairment of strength, a condition to which
advancing years added their portion, so that
we were not able physically to entertain a
large company. Nevertheless, a considerable
number of friends called during the day, while
letters of congratulation from friends abroad
contributed to render the day memorable.

I never can be sufficiently grateful to God,
who so providentially guided my steps, for giv-
ing me so kind and good a husband. Through
all these years he has sustained me by tender
affection and care, and our home life has been
one of the truest happiness.

Incidents

AS THIS sketch is not intended to be in
any proper sense a biography, I pass
over the long lapse of years, with
their varied experiences, their lights and
shadows, their joys and sorrows, their suc-
cesses and disappointments. Every length-
ened life must needs have its share of these.
I might tell of early service as a pastor's wife,
of long connection with the Woman's Chris-
tian Temperance work, of protracted service
as leader of a band of women in the days of
the temperance crusade, of later service in the
National Military Home at this city, of years
of Sabbath visits to the county jail, and of serv-
ice in official connection with the Ohio branch
of the National Woman's Christian Temper-
ance Union. But of all this I cannot here speak
in detail. During those days it fell to my lot

66 In and Out of Catholicism

to arrange for numerous lectures on temper-
ance, and it was a special joy to entertain as
guests in our home such distinguished per-
sons as Miss Frances E. Willard, Mrs. Ellen J.
Foster, Mrs. Yeoman, of Canada, Col. George
W. Bain, of Kentucky, and others prominent
in the temperance work.

During the long editorial connection of my
husband with the United Brethren Publishing
House in Dayton, it became my privilege to
visit many times with him the annual sessions
of the Chautauqua Assembly, at Chautauqua
Lake, New York. These visits became an op-
portunity for a wide acquaintance with people
from many different States of our country,
and here were formed many delightful and
lasting friendships. It was here I first met
Mrs. Dr. Wallace, a woman greatly beloved,
and whose acquaintance has meant so much
for me through many years. Many of those
whom I here met, acquaintance with whom
was to be prized as a special privilege, have

Incidents 67

passed on into the great beyond. Many oth-
ers yet remain to bless the world.

But I want here to record one or two ex-»
periences that possessed for me a special in-
terest. One of these is the following :

A frequent visitor to this popular lake resort
and owner of a beautiful cottage there, was a
Mrs. Smith, whose residence was a little way
up the Ohio River from Cincinnati. Mrs.
Smith was a member of the Methodist Episco-
pal church, and had become acquainted with
the facts connected with my conversion to the
Protestant faith through various newspaper
notices of that time.

Introduced to Mrs. Smith by her daughter,
Miss Belle M. Smith, a skillful artist with
whom I had become acquainted, she desired
to hear from me the story of my early experi-
ences, and later expressed a wish that some of
her friends might hear me also. She thereupon
named an hour and invited some twenty or
more women to the parlors of her cottage to
meet me and hear the narration.

68 In and Out of Catholicism

I related in brief the story of my home life
in England, my coming for a visit to America,
our shipwreck and prolonged suffering on the
ocean, the death of my uncle and aunt in
New Orleans, and my coming to Cincinnati.
All seemed deeply interested ; but, when I came
to speak of my first visit to old Morris Chapel
and of my later conversion, mentioning fa-
miliar names of that period, I observed that
one elderly woman became greatly excited.
Then, as her memory revived the incidents of
that now far off time, she suddenly sprang to
her feet and exclaimed, ''My God, is this little
Mary Frances Merry ? Is it possible that after
so many years I have the privilege of meeting
you again ?" Then she embraced me again and
again, uttering many more exclamations of
surprise and delight. The scene presently be-
came really dramatic. Other women experi-
enced a thrill of excitement, and tears and
laughter were mingled together. An added
feature was that my husband came in at that

Incidents 69

moment to take me to meet another engage-
ment, and the old lady was so pleased to see the
partner of my life, that she warmly embraced
him also.

This woman's name was Gill, and it was in
her arms, while engaged in prayer, that I first
found the perfect peace of a true believer.
This fact I at once recalled when her name was
known to me.

Within a year from that time, Mrs. Gill
with her family had removed to Buffalo, New
York, her husband's business being transferred
to that city, and there they still resided at the
time of our meeting at Chautauqua. As more
than forty years had elapsed since we knew
each other in Cincinnati, the meeting here pos-
sessed a special interest. Referring to my
stature as ''little," I was then seventeen years
of age and of quite slender build.

Another incident, which held for me an in-
terest which may be easily understood, was
substantially as follows:

70 In and Out of Catholicism

One summer, some fifteen or more years
ago, I received a letter from a Mrs. Barlow,
of Detroit, Michigan, inquiring at what time
we expected to arrive at Chautauqua. I had
formed the acquaintance of Mrs. Barlow in
previous years in connection with the work of
the Woman's Christian Temperance Union, in
which we both were interested. She was at
this time entertaining as a guest in her home
Miss Frances Clare Cusack, better known to
the public as "The Nun of Kenmare." Having
known something of my history, she desired
that Miss Cusack should meet me. She, there-
fore, arranged to bring her to Chautauqua at
the time of our visit there.

We arrived on a Saturday evening, and on
Sunday afternoon Mrs. Barlow brought Miss
Cusack to the Hotel Athenaeum where we
were staying. We met and were introduced
in the parlor of the hotel, and on being seated
Miss Cusack at once began to make friendly
inquiry as to my past life. I related to her

Incidents 71

some of the incidents of my history, and when
I spoke of the sacrifice I had made for con-
science' sake, and for the sake of a closer
nearness to our divine Savior, she was much
moved, and embracing me warmly said, "My
child, you have endured many things for
Christ's sake. But for his sake we can bear
the loss of all things, and we have the greater
reward. Yours is the better portion which
never can be taken from you." A number of
the guests of the hotel had been drawn to
listen to our conversation, and many of them
were affected to tears.

In the course of our conversation, I learned
that Miss Cusack knew familiarly the cathe-
dral and convent in Manchester with which my
early years were associated ; also, that she had
been intimately acquainted with my brother,
Father Edwin Merry, whose parish was in
the city of Oldham, a short distance from
Manchester, and had been interested in the
erection of a convent school in connection with

72 In and Out of Catholicism

his church. She had also heard that a daugh-
ter in his father's family had forsaken the
Catholic fold, but had no further information
concerning her. She became much excited
when she learned that I was the sister of
Father Merry, and exclaimed again and again,
"Can it be possible that after so many years I
have met the sister of Father Merry ?"

Miss Cusack was a woman of culture, a
writer of good ability and had published sev-
eral volumes on various subjects. She was pos-
sessed in her earlier life of a considerable for-
tune, the greater part of which she devoted to
building convents for her church. Later she
espoused the Protestant faith, finding for
a while an asylum in Christ's Mission, New
York City, a place for counsel and worship,
established some thirty years ago by Father
O'Connor as a shelter for persons exchanging
the Catholic faith for the Protestant church.
She was at the time I met her well advanced
in years. She returned again to Europe, dy-

Incidents 73

ing a few years later in London. Her funeral
was honored by a large attendance, and such
distinguished persons as Dr. Joseph Parker, of
the City Temple, and the Dean of Westminster,
with others, officiated at the burial.

"^^p

Closing Words

IN CLOSING this sketch I have great pleas-
ure in saying that, while my life has not
been without the shadows of disappoint-
ment, it has been brightened and cheered by
the kindness of many dear friends whom God
has been pleased to give me. It would be a long
list if I could here write all their names.
But the kindnesses of some of these have
through many years been so conspicuous that
I shall not do an injustice to others when I
here mention the names of Mr. and Mrs. W. B.
Shuler, of Hamilton, Ohio ; Dr. and Mrs. R. S.
Wallace, of East Brady, Pennsylvania; and
Dr. and Mrs. Julius King, of Cleveland. I
must not go farther, or I should not know
where to end. But their names are in the Book
of Life. The first named of these have long
sustained to us a relation akin to that of an af-
fectionate son and daughter. The loving offi-

75

76 In and Out of Catholicism

ces of all are remembered with unceasing ap-
preciation and gratitude, and their reward is
sure at the hands of the Father.

I have also this final word to say concerning
the great historic church in which I was born,
but from which my life has been dissociated. I
have not through my life borne toward it or
any of its people any measure of ill will. On
the contrary, I have cherished toward it a feel-
ing of kindliness, and have greatly desired and
often prayed that especially my own people
might awaken to that brighter light and that
greater spiritual freedom which I have found.
The pages of the open Bible, and direct ap-
proach to Christ without intervention of living
man or departed saint, have been to me riches
of blessing above all estimate. For this I have
suffered loss, but realize that I have the greater
gain. The loss of parental affection and recog-
nition was the bitterest part of my cup. But I
have never for a moment cherished toward my
parents any feeling of resentment or hardness.

Closing Words 77

The Apostle Paul declared that he "verily
thought he was doing God service" when he
persecuted the church, and this was their feel-
ing and conviction in rejecting me from their
love. And toward them I could but cherish
the feeling of Jesus on the cross when he
prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know
not what they do."

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GAYLORD

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